


The Witch in the Woods

by calapine



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:01:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23982001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calapine/pseuds/calapine
Summary: On Earth, the Doctor and Ace finding evil repeating itself.
Relationships: Second Doctor & Jamie McCrimmon, Second Doctor & Zoe Heriot, Second Doctor & Zoe Heriot & Jamie McCrimmon, Seventh Doctor & Ace McShane
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at A Teaspoon and An Open Mind in 2003.

Little Johnny Turner crawled through the thick undergrowth that had grown up between the conifers. His trousers were covered with mud and he had torn his sleeve getting past the barbwire. His mum would be furious, but a dare was a dare, and he had to keep going.

The ripped jumper wasn’t the only thing she would be furious about. He wasn’t supposed to be outside at all right now. Straight home after school, she had said, in that tone of voice that told him that he’d be in trouble if he didn’t do as he was told.. Except this time she had really meant it: she had been scared when she said it. He didn’t like to see his mum scared. Reminded him of when she found out dad was going of to fight in the war. But he had been lucky; he had come back. It was all over now anyway. They might even stop the rationing soon.

“Ouch.”

Johnny looked down at his thumb and saw that it was bleeding, caught on a needle of one of the bushes. He watched the tiny pool of blood form, before wiping it on his leg. It left a little red mark. Mum wouldn’t be happy about that either.

George and Peter would be home by now, he supposed, waiting for him to get back and tell them about the witch. He shivered as he pushed his way through a thick wall of dead branches. They crackled and snapped under the pressure. Like bones.

It was getting cold, and he wished that he had taken another jumper, but he was almost there now. The ground was clearing of plants, giving way to dirt and fallen pine needles. He grinned to himself as he caught sight of stone through the trees. Of course he knew that there wasn’t really a witch, but the fact that he had made it to the ruined cottage was enough. He would win the dare.

He felt nervous as he approached the old cottage; it was looking decidedly eerie in the half-light of the forest. He tried not to think about the stories that were going around at school. There had always been a witch in the woods, living in the cottage - that was local legend that had been used for years by parents to scare their children and by children to taunt each other. But the stories had taken a decidedly more grisly turn when children at the village school at started to disappear.

The witch had taken them. Eaten them, boiled them in her cauldron and used their bones to decorate her cottage. Little ghosts haunted the forest now.

But Johnny knew that there were no such things as ghosts and no witch lived in the cottage.

He could see it now, the walls still standing, but the roof was gone. A little wall sat a few metres away from the cottage’s remains, next to a crumbling well. There, he had done it. He could go home now.

But wouldn’t his story be much more impressive if he had gone inside the cottage?

The longer that he looked at it, the less scary it seemed. Really, it was just an old pile of bricks under some trees. That wasn’t scary. He took a step forward.

And another.

He grinned again, as he realised he was doing it, he was going to go inside the witch’s cottage.

Then something moved.

Not from the cottage, but behind it, in the trees. A shadow had moved, and he knew that something had to have caused that shadow. Not a tree: there was no wind and he couldn’t think what animal could be that big.

A ghost.

He felt cold fear at the back of his neck, before he remembered that ghosts didn’t have shadows, did they?

Maybe it was just another kid.

Maybe he should call out.

Maybe not.

Johnny turned and ran.

He knew it was a mistake as soon as he hit the undergrowth. He should have slipped away, quietly. He couldn’t run through this mess of plants and roots and bushes, he kept having to leap over bits and find safe footing. It wasn’t easy and he was moving slowly.

He heard something behind him.

Footsteps.

He panicked and missed his step. A root caught his ankle and he crashed to the ground, falling on his back. His eyes closed, he had hit his spin on something and it was tingling in pain. He tried to forget about the footsteps, and where he was and pretend he was home.

It didn’t work.

He opened his eyes.

There was a face above him. A woman. Ice cold eyes. Staring at him.

The witch!

Johnny Turner screamed.

+++

Mirabelle Adams sat at the bus stop, holding onto her schoolbag tightly. She wasn’t looking forward to school; it wasn’t easy being eight years old and having a name like Mirabelle.

As she sat she stared at the house opposite. It had a red door and a well cared for garden surrounded by little stone walls. Shaun Turner lived there, the only other person who caught the 8.35 bus through to Little Chidick, where the nearest primary school was. There weren’t many children in the village anymore.

But she hadn’t seen Shaun for a week.

She didn’t care, not that much, but it was nice to have someone to talk to on the trip, and who didn’t think her name was funny. She could go across the road, knock on the door and find out what was wrong herself, but she knew that she wouldn’t. It wasn’t something she was going to admit, but she was too scared to go. It was Shaun’s grandfather that scared her. She had met him once, wide eyes and shockingly white hair and she knew that he was crazy. Even her mum said that he was crazy; he claimed that he had seen the witch in the woods, but that was just some stupid fairy story to scare kids. Mirabelle felt quite proud of herself that the story didn’t scare her anymore.

Still, Shaun was okay, and she sometimes felt sorry for him because his parents were dead and he had to live with his crazy old grandfather.

Suddenly, a wheezing noise filled the air. Mirabelle sat up, startled and looked around. That certainly wasn’t the bus, not unless something had gone really wrong with the engine. She saw something across the road, just by the little wall next to Shaun’s house. Scared, she jumped over the low hedge behind her, into Mrs Robertson’s garden, and peered over it, watching.

Just to the left of the little gate appeared a tall blue box, with a flashing light on top. A moment later, a door in the front of it opened and a little man appeared, wearing a straw hat and swinging an umbrella.

“Hurry up, Ace!” he called as he took a long look at the house, then began to stroll down the road. Seconds later a teenager appeared wearing a black bomber jacket and carrying a rucksack.

When they were out of sight, Mirabelle crept out of her hiding place and sat back down at the bus stop. She stared at the blue box that sat across the road, and suddenly felt very, very curious. She may not have believed in fairy stories anymore, but magic was a very different matter. She wasn’t too old to believe in that.

There was a distant, rumbling sound, and Mirabelle sighed. That would be the bus. She hoped that the blue box would still be there when she got home.

+++

The Doctor was grateful for the break, even though he was now knew that it wouldn’t be for long. Spending the morning walking around the little village in the English countryside, enjoying the cool air and the bright sun had done him good. He felt refreshed, and even though she had been proclaiming her boredom most of the time, he knew Ace had eventually started to enjoy it as well, probably.

It was a change of scenery, and that scenery had been very calm.

Now he found himself sitting in an armchair in front of a fire, and watching as rain hit the windows of the house — a testament to the unpredictability of British weather. He brought the steaming cup of tea to his lips and took a sip.

Opposite him sat a man who appeared to be in his early sixties. His hairline was receding dramatically, and what was left was a shocking white. His eyes were fixed on the Doctor, and the Doctor gave an almost inaudible sigh. The tea and biscuits and reminiscing had been nice, but seemed to be coming to an end: those eyes were asking questions.

After the walk, he and Ace had returned to the TARDIS, and the Doctor had made sure he was at the right address. It had taken him a few minutes to convince the occupant of the house that he was who he said he was, but the TARDIS had proved to be quite convincing. He hadn’t seemed especially surprised to see the Doctor. In fact, when he found out who he was he had seemed to deflate, his features creasing into a frown of sadness.

“Makes sense, I suppose,” he had said, and invited the Doctor and Ace inside. The Doctor hadn’t pursued what he had said; it wasn’t quite time anyway. Monsters only came out at night.

The Doctor had realised what the comment had meant when he saw the newspaper lying on the table in the hallway, just next to the telephone. It was the local weekly, with the headline ‘Local Boy goes Missing’, emblazoned on the front page along with a picture of the boy and an appeal for information.

He glanced at the chair opposite him.

John Turner was still watching him, his wrinkled hand clasped around his own cup of tea. “So, Doctor,” he said. “What are you doing here this time?”

“I think you know,” replied the Doctor, placing his cup on the table. John nodded and closed his eyes. For a moment, the Doctor questioned how wise this course of action had been. He didn’t need to tell him about this, he could have dealt with it by himself, probably, and John Turner was an old man now. Fit and healthy, yes, but perhaps he should have left him to his peaceful retirement.

He opened his eyes. The Doctor wondered how much effort it had taken John to keep his face that calm.

“The witch is back, isn’t she?” he asked. The Doctor’s face was serious, his eyes dark.

“Yes,” he replied. “She is.”

+++

Ace hadn’t realised that there was a kid in the house until she caught him peering over the edge of the banister. Unruly brown curls and a pair of wide eyes were all she saw, before he spotted her watching him and ducked back upstairs. She grinned at that, obviously he was supposed to be in bed, but was curious about what was going on downstairs.

The Doctor and John Turner had seemed engrossed in their conversation. She wasn’t entirely sure what they were talking about, as she wasn’t really paying attention, but it was obvious that they had met before.

She was sitting by the door, and managed to slip out of the room without either of them noticing. The kid wasn’t on the stairs. She crept up them, and peered round the corner at the top. There he was, sitting with his back to the wall and wearing striped pyjamas.

He looked up as she approached, his eyes wide.

“Hey, relax,” she said, “I’m not going to bite you.” His eyes widened even further at that. He really did look quite scared. “I’m Ace,” she said, keeping her distance.

“Yeah, I know,” he said.

“You were eavesdropping,” she said with a grin. The kid smiled back.

“Sort of,” he admitted. “I was going to come down, but when I heard that he was here.” The boy shrugged.

“You mean the Doctor?” asked Ace. “You don’t want to meet him?”

“I do,” said the boy. “It’s just, well, the stories Grandpa tells. He’s pretty amazing, isn’t he?”

“The Professor? I suppose he is. What’s your name, kid?” He was looking a little less frightened now, and she felt confident enough that he wasn’t suddenly going to bolt to sit next to him. His wide eyes looked up at her, and she began to wonder if he just looked like that all the time.

“Shaun Turner.” He paused, throwing a glance towards the door opposite. “Ace, do you believe in monsters?”

She looked down at Shaun. He didn’t look any older than nine, but there was something very odd about the way he asked that question. She wasn’t sure how to answer. She didn’t want to lie to him, but the truth would probably be a bit much for a nine year old.

“What kind?” she asked eventually.

“The ones that when they’re hidden in shadows they look almost human, but it’s just a disguise. They’re twisted and dark and ugly.” It sounded like he was reciting something that he had been told. He paused to take a deep breath. “Evil things.” He looked up at her. “Grandpa doesn’t mention it much but I know he’s seen a monster, a real one.”

“How old are you, Shaun?” asked Ace.

“Eight and three quarters.”

“Is that why you’re sitting out here, because of monsters?”

He nodded miserably. “Not that kind, I think that’s a grown-up monster. But the ones that go bump in the night. It hides under my bed, I think.”

“Right now?”

He nodded again. Ace stood up. “Your monster’s in there?” she asked, pointing at the door. Shaun gave another nod, looking nervously at the door. “All right. Let’s go see it.”

“No!” gasped Shaun. “You have to run away from them.” Ace crouched down by the boy; he really did seem frightened. She remembered believing in monsters when she was a child, but she hadn’t had anyone to scare them away from under her bed. Now she knew that the monsters really did exist and that they were far worse than anything her imagination had dreamt up.

“It’s all right, Shaun,” she said softly. “We’ll face it together.” She took his hand and he stood up. She pushed open the door, and could feel Shaun’s hand gripping hers tightly.

Inside the room it as almost exactly as she had expected: a messy eight year old’s room, with toys strewn across the floor and a bed sitting by the open window.

What she didn’t expect was the monster standing at the foot of the bed.


	2. Chapter 2

It was dark underground. The Doctor moved along a corridor his footsteps practically silent. The same could not be said of his companion.

“Jamie!” hissed the Doctor, shining his torch at the young Scot. “Perhaps you’d like to go and help Zoe?”

“All that computer stuff doesnae mean a thing to me, Doctor,” replied Jamie in an exaggerated whisper.

“In that case, could you please try and be a little quieter?” He could see that Jamie was about to answer, and swiftly put a finger to his lips. “Shh!” he said, in a very quiet, very forceful voice. He held up his torch and turned around to be almost immediately confronted by a door.

“Ah, here we are,” he murmured.

“What was that, Doctor?” asked Jamie.

“Nothing, Jamie. Why don’t you make yourself useful and hold onto this?” replied the Doctor and passed him his torch. “Now if you’d just shine it at the lock...thank you.” The Doctor fished around in his pockets, and pulled out his sonic screwdriver with a flourish. He crouched down by the door and listened carefully. “Hold that light still, Jamie!” He made an adjustment to the sonic screwdriver, and activated it. The faint sound of an electronic beep could be heard.

The Doctor stood up, hands clutching the lapels of his coat. “After you, Jamie” he offered politely.

“No thanks, Doctor. If she’s in there, you’re going first.”

“Jamie,” explained the Doctor patiently. “She’s hardly likely to lock herself in, is she?”

“If she knew we were comin, then. . .”

“. . .we would probably be quite dead.” He sighed. “All right, come along then.” The Doctor pushed open the door cautiously. The room was dimly lit, but empty of people. Judging it to be safe, Jamie strode forward, but was stopped by the Doctor.

“Let’s be cautious, shall we?” he said, taking very gentle step forwards. “She’s probably left something quite nasty for any intruders.”

“I dinnae see anythin, Doctor.”

“Overconfidence, perhaps. Well, let’s have a little light.” The Doctor hit a switch by the door and the room instantly brightened to reveal a meticulously tidy laboratory. The Doctor moved to the workbench, running an expert eye over the apparatus. “Very impressive,” he murmured.

“Doctor!”

“Not now, Jamie.” He was trying to access the computer. He knew that the most important information wouldn’t be stored here: there was a remote link, if only he could find it.

“Doctor!” Jamie’s voice was insistent, and distracting. The Doctor looked up to see what he was so concerned about.

“Oh goodness! I thought we had found them all!”

On the far wall a series of cylinders were attached to the wall. Each one with its own machinery attached and an overhead monitor. Three of the cylinders were occupied with unconscious children.

“We have to get them out,” said Jamie, moving towards the first cylinders.

“Jamie! Wait!” exclaimed the Doctor and Jamie stopped.

“We cannae just leave the weans in there, Doctor,” he said.

“And we’re not going to,” he said and held up the sonic screwdriver. “But if there’s going to be a trap amongst any of this it’s going to be over there. So let me go first.” He took a cautious step in front of Jamie towards the cylinders. There was no reaction from the sonic device, so he took another step, and another. Finally he laid a hand on the cylinder and let out a sigh. “Quite safe,” he said, and put the sonic screwdriver back in his pocket. “Now we have to get them out!” he exclaimed, suddenly angry.

The Doctor turned to the nearest control panel and began hitting buttons, seemingly at random, but Jamie had faith that he knew what he was doing. Seeing that the Doctor was busy and didn’t need his help, Jamie began to walk around the laboratory, trying to guess what some of the equipment was for.

“Don’t touch anything,” muttered the Doctor, his voice loud enough for Jamie to hear and his eyes still on the controls. Jamie shrugged, wondering how long Zoe was going to be. He ducked out of the lab and took a quick look down the long corridor, and then, much more quickly, ducked back into the lab.

“Ah, Doctor, you almost done?” he asked.

“I’ll be a lot quicker if you don’t interrupt me,” came the reply.

“Because she’s back.”

“Zoe?”

“No.”

“Oh dear. Quickly, Jamie, shut the door.”

He did as he was told and looked around for something to jam up against it. “The lock, Jamie. Little blue button, hit it.”

“She’s gonnae have a key, Doctor,” he said as he pressed it.

“Every second counts, Jamie.” The Doctor turned back to the controls, a worried frown now on his face, but his concentration had sharpened. “There!” he exclaimed, as he straightened up. There was a hissing noise, and then the cylinders sank into the floor. The revived children, two boys and a girl, stumbled forward, coughing.

One of the boys recovered awareness first, and he looked around the room with wide eyes. The eyes fell on the Doctor, who crouched down by the child.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m the Doctor, and this is my friend Jamie. Everything’s going to be fine. You’ll be back home soon.” He still seemed disorientated, as though he couldn’t quite see his surroundings.

“I’m Johnny,” said the boy. “Feel sick,” he said.

“Why don’t you have seat, Johnny?” said the Doctor. “You’ll feel better soon.” He glanced over at Jamie and saw that the other two children were in much the same state: conscious, but too shocked and disorientated to understand what was going on.

“Now what, Doctor?” asked Jamie.

“Be ready,” said the Doctor, his eyes fixed on the door.

“Ready for what?”

The Doctor didn’t get an opportunity to answer as the door exploded. Into the laboratory stepped a tall woman; cold eyes took in the scene before her.

“Doctor, I’m getting a little tired of this,” she said, calmly pointing a slim blaster at him. “Move away from those controls. You too,” she said, throwing a glance at Jamie. She turned back to the Doctor “Do you have any idea how far back you’ve set my work?”

“I’d feel a lot better if I’d destroyed it all, Rani,” said the Doctor. “What you’re doing here is monstrous!”

The Rani raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You really think so?” she asked evenly. “You think what I do to these humans is worse than how they treat the other inhabitants of this planet? Worse than how they treat each other?”

“They are sentient beings!” exclaimed the Doctor.

“Oh, do stop the histrionics, Doctor. They are vicious, violent carnivores.”

“They’re humans!”

She shot him a withering look. “That’s not a defence. I am acting out of genuine need: they go out and kill for fun. They start wars amongst themselves and squabble for the petty resources of this third rate world. They kill animals and the other sentients of this world with equal enthusiasm.”

“You’re experimenting on children, they’re not responsible for all that.”

“But they will be. Products of their society, Doctor. You know as well as I that history is a repeating cycle,” she stepped towards the Doctor, able to look down on him easily. “I’m sure I can think of something useful to do with the chemical make-up of a Time Lord.”

Jamie chose that moment to act. He had been edging closer to the Rani as she argued with the Doctor, and was now close enough to strike. He tensed and jumped, but the Rani caught the movement in her peripheral vision. She spun round and fired.

Jamie collapsed with a cry of pain. It was enough of a disturbance for the children to look up, tired as they were.

“Jamie!” cried the Doctor and ran to his side.

“Don’t worry. Your friend is unhurt, for now, though his leg will be rather painful,” said the Rani. “He’s young enough to be useful.”

“No!” exclaimed the Doctor, as he helped Jamie to his feet. “These experiments end now!”

The Rani sighed. “Really, Doctor, I’m not going to be swayed by melodrama, though feel free to offer a rational argument.”

Suddenly, the Doctor smiled. “I don’t think I’ll need one.” Jamie wondered about his friend’s curious change in mood until he spotted someone peering cautiously around the laboratory door: it was Zoe.

On cue, the main console in the room started to whine, loudly. The Rani ran to the controls. “What have you done?” she demanded, furiously trying to find out what was wrong with the system.

The shriek from the systems was getting higher, and the Doctor slammed his hands over his ears.

With the Rani distracted by the computer, Jamie made a grab for her blaster. She tried to kick him away, but he had a good grasp of the weapon. Her concentration split, the Rani shoved him away, letting go of the blaster, and turned back to the console.

The Doctor had picked up Johnny, who was whimpering now, frightened by the noise. He was making for the door as cautiously as he could.

Jamie had fallen to the ground, hitting it with a sharp crack dropping the pistol. It skittered across the room, and hit the wall.

“You fool!” exclaimed the Rani. “The system is going to overload!”

But the Doctor wasn’t listening. He passed Johnny to Jamie, and headed back for the two other children and took them both by the hand.

The shriek reached its zenith.

“Run!” shouted the Doctor, and, Jamie, Zoe and the children pelted up the corridors and out into the forest. Jamie and Zoe had stopped to catch their breath, and the two children that the Doctor had by the hand were tugging on him to stop too. “Keep running!” yelled the Doctor. Exchanging glances Jamie and Zoe sprinted into the forest after the Doctor, Jamie still carrying Johnny.

When Jamie saw the Doctor fall forward into the fallen leaves, pulling the two children with him, he followed suit and could see Zoe doing the same. There was a low rumble behind them and he glanced back to see a ball of fire bursting through the earth behind him, out through the open tunnel entrance that led under the ruined cottage.

It seemed that the Rani’s laboratory had been destroyed.

The Doctor stood up, beaming and looking around in satisfaction. “Well done, Zoe,” he said.

She shrugged. “Easy enough; confuse any computer sufficiently and it’ll eventually explode. They really are very simple, no matter how advanced they get.”

“Well, quite,” said the Doctor. “But let’s not get over confident, shall we?” He paused and looked down at the three young faces now looking up at him. “We have to get these three back to their parents.”

“And then we’ll just slip away quietly?” asked Jamie.

The Doctor frowned and grasped the lapels of his coat. “I think, Jamie, that this time we really should explain. These children have been through a terrible ordeal.”

“But in this century Doctor, they’re hardly going to believe us, are they?” said Zoe.

“Well, perhaps we shouldn’t quite tell them everything, Zoe, just enough.” The Doctor looked down to see Johnny pulling at the bottom of his coat, a questioning look on his face, and he gave the boy a smile. “What is it?” he asked.

“Are you a wizard?” asked Johnny.

+++

“Professor!” Ace shouted down the stairs. She pulled Shaun behind her and moved back towards the door, not taking her eyes of the creature. In her experience with monsters, this one was behaving very oddly. It barely seemed to have noticed her presence, and it wasn’t doing anything, except standing there, looking out the window.

Ace took a moment to study it: It was short, much shorter than her, and humanoid. Its skin was grey, and twisted with lumps. There was no neck; its shoulders widened into its head. Two black eyes stared out above slits for a nose. It didn’t look especially threatening, but Ace knew from experience that that didn’t really mean anything.

“Professor!” she shouted again.

“Yes, Ace. What is it?” The Doctor’s voice replied from the bottom of the stairs.

“There’s something up here!”

She heard footsteps on the stairs and turned around to see the Doctor behind her, followed by John Turner. The Doctor ducked his head into the room for a second, then turned to John. “Take Shaun downstairs,” he said quietly.

“Doctor, what’s in there?” demanded John.

“Let me deal with this.” He went into the bedroom and close the door firmly behind him, but that didn’t stop Ace following him anyway.

As she entered the room, she saw the Doctor approaching the creature. He threw a glance at her. “Stay quiet,” he whispered. When the Doctor was just a few steps away, it turned towards him and fixed its black eyes on him.

“Hello,” said the Doctor, doffing his hat. “I’m the Doctor.”

It let out a low whine, and for the first time Ace realised that she couldn’t see a mouth. The Doctor stepped closer and tentatively reached out a hand and patted the creature on the arm. “There, there,” he said. “You’re going to be fine.”

The creature seemed to give a sniff, and Ace saw one of its black eyes glistening. She couldn’t believe it when a tear fell from it. It reached out one of its long grey arms and held the Doctor’s arm. The Doctor tried to disentangle himself, but the creature was insistent. “All right,” he said. “Ace, maybe you’d better warn them about us coming down the stairs. There’s no need to be alarmed though, he’s quite friendly.”

“Right,” said Ace, giving a nod.

The Doctor looked down at the creature to see its black eyes looking up at him mournfully. “Don’t worry,” he said, as he led it downstairs.

Shaun was peering out from behind his grandfather, who stood next to Ace. John Turner couldn’t quite disguise his feelings regarding the creature, and took the smallest step back. For its part, the creature seemed as afraid of everyone, save the Doctor, as Shaun seemed of it. It looked around, and then its eyes fell on the newspaper by the telephone. Its black eyes widened and it began to let out another wail, as it ran forward and clasped the pages protectively.

“What’s it doing?” asked John, moving further away from it. The Doctor gave a sigh, his eyes sad as he watched the creature.

“I think we’ve found the missing boy.”

+++

“But what happened to him?” asked Ace.

“One of the Rani’s experiments,” muttered the Doctor, casting a look behind him. “I stopped her here once before, but she’s back. This time her interference with humanity has to end.”

“Who is she anyway? Another megalomaniac trying to take over the universe?”

“Not exactly. She’s much more concerned with her research. Unfortunately, she also lacks a conscience.”

They were talking in the hallway. In the living room, Shaun was speaking to the creature, to Andrew as the newspaper revealed, as normally as he could under the circumstances. He could see that Andrew was far more scared than anyone else, and that knowledge had made him kind and eager to comfort. John watched them from the doorway, his eyes shadowed.

“There but for the grace of god,” he murmured to himself, then stole a glance at the Doctor, “Or wizards.” He moved into the hallway, and the Doctor looked up at his approach. “What are you going to do about him?”

“Take him back, and see if I can do anything for him,” replied the Doctor.

“Back to the witch’s cottage?” he asked.

The Doctor nodded. “You don’t have to come.”

“No, Doctor, I do. What about Shaun?”

“He stays here.”

“Alone? Doctor, I stopped him going to school as soon as I saw the paper. I’m not leaving him now.”

“He stays here,” repeated the Doctor firmly, eyes dark. This time John didn’t argue.

+++

The forest was dark. Evergreen conifers barely letting in any of the moonlight, but both the Doctor and John Turner knew where they were going. Even in the dark, as he made his way across a forest floor that was by turns slippery and sludgy with mud, he knew that they were nearing their destination.

But he kept his eyes fixed ahead, straining to make out the shapes in the distance.

“Looking for ghosts?” asked the Doctor, falling in step behind him.

“I haven’t been here for over fifty years, Doctor,” he replied, his voice low. The air was still and cold, though the rain had stopped, and he could here nothing except the four sets of footsteps moving slowly, surely, back to the cottage.

“But you stayed in the village,” said the Doctor. John shrugged, not sure what to say. He got the feeling that the Doctor was looking for something in his answers, but he had nothing to tell him except the truth.

“I couldn’t leave,” he said.

“No, I don’t think you could,” said the Doctor, half to himself and he slowed to meet Ace and Andrew who were walking behind him.

John walked on, thinking. Regeneration had sounded simple enough, the way the Doctor explained it. But this man was so different from the first Doctor he had known. There were similarities, certainly, but he was beginning to see that they were only superficial: this one didn’t smile so much, and when he did John was never sure if it reached his eyes. There was so much more control here, so much more care taken with what was said. It felt like he was using words as tools.

Yes, decided John, there was something about this Doctor that made him distinctly uneasy.

John stopped, noticing the ground: it was charred, flattened. The thinning of the trees let the moonlight through now, and he could see that the cottage was gone. “We’re here,” he whispered.

“So we are. Ace, I see you’ve brought your backpack.” The Doctor didn’t turn around, but John could see the hint of a guilty look on her face. “You don’t have anything explosive with you, perchance?”

“Just a few,” she replied. “Come on, Professor . . .”

“How many?” he asked.

She smiled. “How many do you need?”

“Enough to take out a small underground complex. Six or seven rooms, assuming she hasn’t improved it.”

“Easy,” said Ace, grinning. “It’ll be a wicked explosion.”

The Doctor frowned slightly, then asked: “And do you remember that talk we had about safety precautions.”

“Sort of, I mean, I did work on it.”

“Fuses,” said the Doctor, holding up his umbrella. “How long?”

“The longest?”

“Yes.”

“Ten, maybe eleven minutes.”

The Doctor smiled. “Good. Now, when we go in there I want you to set the explosives, then get out.”

“But, Professor . . .”

“And stay out,” he said, and marched towards the entrance.

+++

“She’s really down here, right now?”

He didn’t want to admit it, but John was afraid. No, he was terrified, and speaking was only making it worse, he realised. At least when it was silent he could pretend this was a nightmare, but the solid, familiar sound of his own voice destroyed that illusion.

The Doctor stopped, a few steps down the corridor and turned round, shadows playing across his face.

“I hope not,” he replied quietly, then spoke to Ace. “Start at the other end of the corridor. The furthest room should contain the central computer core, or what’s left of it.” He turned around again and moved slowly down the corridor, followed by Andrew and John. His umbrella touched a door as he passed. It swung open easily, a long creak piercing the air. “All these doors were locked last time,” murmured the Doctor.

As the Doctor moved further down the corridor, towards the laboratory, John fell behind. He tried to calm his fear, focussing on his surroundings, convincing himself that there was nothing here to be afraid of. Dark walls, barely adequate lighting and the diminishing silhouettes of the Doctor and that . . .and Andrew only added to his dread. There was a reason he hadn’t set foot in that forest for fifty years, but somehow seeing the Doctor again had convinced him he could do it. And now he had, he realised just how much it was costing him. Fear clawed the back of his mind, forcing nightmare visions into his mind’s eye. It told him to run.

He shouldn’t be here, he realised.

He walked on.

+++

The laboratory was much as the Doctor remembered it, and that puzzled him. It appeared that the Rani had repaired most of the damage, but was unwilling to extend or improve the facility. Perhaps she just hasn’t had the time, mused the Doctor and the thought cheered him.

A flash of white distracted him from his thoughts. He stepped back, his eyes searching the darkened room for its source. It was tempting to switch on the lights, but that seemed a little obvious to him, and therefore dangerous. Slowly, he moved round the workbench, working his way across the cylinders which, he noted with disgust, had been reactivated.

There was a cry of pain form behind him. He turned around to see something materialise next to John Turner: smooth, silver and humanoid. Its oval face was blank.

“Androids,” he murmured, as he felt a steely grasp on his own shoulder. Not quite enough to be painful, but he couldn’t pull away from it. There appeared to be only two of them, and the second one held both John and Andrew.

“Is this part of your plan?” asked John, trying to pull away from the android.

“No,” said the Doctor. “Don’t struggle. They seem to be programmed only to immobilise, but that could change.” Slowly, carefully, the Doctor used his free arm to touch the android. There was no reaction. With increased confidence, his fingers moved over the metallic surface until he found a panel he could open. “Ah,” he said, looking inside. “Very interesting.” He stretched his fingers and moved them into the androids wiring, working as quickly as he could with only one free hand.

Moments later, he heard the distinctive sound of a TARDIS dematerialising, and a tall black box faded into existence in the centre of the laboratory. The Doctor’s eyes flicked up, but he didn’t stop working, and hoped his movements were surreptitious enough not to be noticed.

The Rani stepped out of her time machine, holding an unconscious child in her arms.

“Shaun!” cried John. “Let him go!” He struggled furiously. The Rani shot a contemptuous glace in his direction, her cold eyes taking in the scene before her, then she turned to the Doctor.

“Back again, I see,” she said, opening one of the cylinder’s and putting Shaun inside. “Well, don’t let me stop you babbling on morality.” The Doctor stayed silent for a moment, the near darkness in the room casting his eyes in shadow as he watched the Rani.

“A little unusual for you, using androids?” he said calmly.

“Your fault, Doctor. Since my aliens became unreliable I’ve been working on genetically adapting another species to my needs. These humans that you’re so fond of make very good subjects. But since you managed to destroy most of my work, I’ve had to resort to primitive artificial assistants. Engineering is hardly my forté.” She glanced at the overhead monitor of the cylinder.

“And what about him?” asked the Doctor, his eyes flicking to Andrew, and his deformed appearance, his grey skin appearing black in the diminished light.

The Rani shrugged. “All experiments are subject to unpredictable results. His genetic make-up rejected the changes, and mutated.”

“So you abandoned him,” said the Doctor. The Rani’s eyes narrowed, and she took three short steps towards him.

“Would you rather I had killed him?”

“And who’s next for your monstrous experiment, Rani? How many lives are you going to destroy this time?” he asked, his voice cold.

“Destroy?” she exclaimed. Her hand flicked a switch on one of the control consoles and the first cylinder lit up, and the Doctor could see a young girl inside. “Her inherited genetics would have condemned her to an early death, Doctor.”

“That’s not certain,” he replied.

“But once I’ve corrected the flaws it will be certain that she survives.” The Rani smiled coldly.

“And then what? You alter who she is to suit your own purposes. You sacrifice her freedom, her individuality, her free choice,” he said. “You kill her!”

The Rani completed her adjustments to the computer and stepped back. “And what about you friend over there?” she asked, nodding towards John. “He’s alive, isn’t he?”

“What do you mean?” asked John, feeling a shiver pass through him. There had been something entirely unreal about the whole conversation. Being back here again had forced him to remember a great deal he had tried to suppress. It seemed familiar, though his own memories had been skewed by his fear of the place. He couldn’t remember much of his imprisonment; he wasn’t really sure how long he had been trapped in here for before the Doctor had freed him. He had been cold when he was conscious, and he remembered the witch’s face with terrifying clarity. Flashes of green. Cool metal. The pain of needles burrowing into his skin.

“What do you mean?” he asked again, realising that the Doctor had not replied.

“Are you going to answer him, Doctor?” enquired the Rani. “Or shall I tell him.”

“Doctor?”

“You’re interfering with evolution,” said the Doctor, his voice low, angry. Dark eyes focussed on the Rani. “You have no right to . . .”

“ . . .interfere?” The Rani laughed. “Why ever not,” she said, her voice hardening. “Isn’t that what you do?”

“Doctor! What did she mean?” demanded John. “What did she mean!”

“You were here long enough for the Rani to begin her experiment on you,” replied the Doctor levelly.

“I don’t understand,” he said. The Rani finally turned to him, her icy eyes filled with contempt.

“You stupid human, you’d be dead if it wasn’t for me. I saved you life,” she smiled coldly.

“No,” John shook his head. “No, that’s not true. You . . .you . . .” He broke off. “What are you going to do to my grandson?” he asked quietly.

“Something which should be a little for successful than that,” she said, jerking her head at Andrew’s monstrous form. “Probably.” She turned back to the console.

“Now!” shouted the Doctor. The android that had been holding him released the Doctor’s arm and flew across the laboratory, attacking the second android, which released John and Andrew to defend itself. The two identical creations swung and kicked and tried to crush each other, but identical strength and abilities had locked them both in an unwinnable battle.

The Rani swung around, her features contorted in fury.

The Doctor was grinning, and watching the battle in some amusement. “It seems you were right, Rani, engineering really isn’t your forté.”

Outnumbered and having lost control of her androids, the Rani paused barely a moment before running into her TARDIS.

“What’s she doing?” asked John.

“Cutting her losses,” replied the Doctor as the TARDIS dematerialised.

“Doctor!” Ace appeared in the doorway to the laboratory. “This place is about to go up!”

“Right, everybody out,” said the Doctor. “Except you.” He took Andrew by the hand and led him across to the cylinders, releasing Shaun and the trapped girl. “Out!” ordered the Doctor, before crouching down in front of Andrew, and gently placing him inside the machine. He heard retreating footsteps behind him, and turned to the console. “Ace,” he muttered noticing that someone was still in the laboratory. “I thought I told you to get out. Twice.”

“I’m not leaving you here, Professor.”

“How much time do we have, then?”

“About a minute.”

“Mmm,” his eyes glanced at the monitor and back at the console. “Really, this was never something I was very good at,” he murmured. “Oh, well.” He flicked a switch and began to input commands. Seconds later, he was finished, took a glance at the cylinder and crossed his fingers. He activated the machine.

Inside the cylinder Andrew was changing.

“What are you doing?” asked Ace.

“Trying to reverse what the Rani did.”

“Is it working?”

“Not very well,” admitted the Doctor. “And my time is up.” He shut down the machine and opened the cylinder, picking up Andrew and running for the exit. “Come on, Ace!” he shouted.

+++

“She saved my life?”

The Doctor nodded sadly. “Yes.”

“You didn’t tell me that.”

“No.”

John Turner shook his head, eyes staring at the smoke cloud drifting across the woods. Shaun and the little girl, Mirabelle, seemed to be perfectly fine, physically. The other boy, Andrew, the monster, didn’t look quite so monstrous anymore. His hair and mouth had returned, and the puffy grey skin had gone. But his eyes, John shuddered, he found the solid black so disconcerting.

“Did she have time to do anything to Shaun?”

“I don’t think so.”

“But you can’t be sure?”

The Doctor sighed; certainty was such an uncertain thing, especially for him. He took out a piece of paper and wrote down a number. “Here,” he said, passing the paper to John. “Call them. Tell them what happened. Everything that happened.”

John raised his eyebrows. “And they’ll believe me.”

The Doctor nodded, and turned away. He began to walk.

“Doctor!”

The Doctor stopped.

“Is she going to come back?” asked John.

“Oh, she’ll be back: another place, another time.”

“But not here?”

“Not here.”

+++

Mirabelle Adams sat at the bus stop clutching her school bag tightly. She was going back to school today, even though she still had nightmares.

She looked across the road at Shaun’s house, the blue box gone. She hadn’t seen Shaun since the strange little man had left, or his grandfather. She had tried to ask her mother what had happened, but she had just got very upset. The little man had replied to her questions, but she still didn’t feel like she had any answers.

Andrew seemed to be doing okay though. And he was the one person who was willing to talk about what had happened, but he didn’t understand it any more than she did.

There were trucks in the woods now, and soldiers with guns. She didn’t like them; they frightened her, and now the little village was overrun with them.

The air still smelt of smoke. She had wanted to go into the forest and find out what had really happened, but there was no way she would be able to sneak away at the moment.

She could hear the school bus coming now, the distant rumbling noise. She stood up, ready for its arrival with the same thought repeating itself in her head: Time will help, it usually does.

At least, that was what the little man had said.


End file.
